Golden Apples in Silver Settings
by LemonSmoothie
Summary: Takes place before the game. A satire based on Inherit the Wind. Locke's mother, June Cole, has been arrested and is on trial.
1. Act I

Golden Apples in Silver Settings

"The king's wrath is like messengers of death, but a wise man can pacify it."

Proverbs 16:14

story by – Jerry McCracken

dedicated to – Mona Caliente,

whose kind words and tireless support and endless love

are worth more to me than all the gold in the world, in apple

form or not

Dramatis Personae

June Cole – schoolteacher

Ward Cole – June's husband

Locke Cole – June's son

William J. Brady – prosecuting attorney

Beatrice Brady – William Brady's wife

Clarence Drummond – defense attorney

Tom Baker – bailiff

Dennis Martel – districty attorney

Odell Lovett – judge

Albert Patrick – mayor

Lilly Wiess -- schoolteacher

Gestahl – emperor (evil)

Kefka – general

Leo – general

Celes Chere – general

Arvis – newsman

Banon – doctor

Rachel Gillis – Locke's girlfriend

Elijah Gillis – preacher, Rachel's father

Benny – local schoolboy

Jackie – local schoolgirl

Edgar Roni Figaro – king

Chancellor – Edgar's chancellor

Sabin Rene Figaro – martial artist

George Brown – shopkeeper

James Jones -- innkeeper

Act I

Scene I

Kohlingen is as dreamy as ever. The sun smiles happily on the spring foliage, and the ocean babbles endlessly about its own secrets. Birds are everywhere, singing their replies.

Today, the town is busy. People scuttle hither and yon, talking up a real storm. Several of them are in the process of hanging a banner over the entrance to the courthouse. The banner reads, "Revere Your Emperor."

School has just let out for the day. A gaggle of children skips down the path from the old wooden schoolhouse toward the center of town. Most of them are talking about the days' lessons or other mundane topics.

"Nice rain we got yesterday, huh?" Benny, thirteen years old and proud of it, prods the sidewalk with his foot.

"What's nice about it? Our house sprung a leak in the ceiling." Jackie, twelve and more modest, is less enthusiastic than her companion.

"Brought out the worms, it did," says Benny, spotting one.

"Gross. I don't want to know where that's been."

"What's gross about it? You was a worm once."

"Was not."

"Was too. I learned it in school."

"What dingbat told you that?"

"My teacher, Mrs. Cole."

"Did not."

"Did too. She told us that a long time ago, we was all little bacteria in the ocean. Like little bugs. Then those bugs grew into fish, and then they went on land and turned into animals and people millions of years later. Hundreds of millions."

"That's heresy!"

"That's what Mrs. Cole said."

"She's fixin' to get herself in a heap of trouble."

"And just why's that?"

"Don't you pay attention in church? Everyone knows Emperor Gestahl created the world a thousand years ago. It's a sin to say otherwise."

"Just sayin', that's all."

"Well, it's a sin. Why do you think Mrs. Cole is is so much trouble now?"

"I figured she stole somethin'."

"Naw, she done got herself arrested for teachin' heresy."

"You is lyin'!"

"Nuh uh! Go see for yourself. The trial is in two days, and that's why everyone's getting' ready for the dignitaries."

"Really?"

"Really. Honest to goodness."

The children stroll past the courthouse, where George Brown and James Jones are fixing the banner. Mayor Albert Patrick observes.

"I hear the ship with Brady on it is due to arrive any minute now," says Patrick. "It left harbor in Nikeah on time, and it's just about due."

"Fabulous," says Brown. "I've never actually seen Brady before."

"I have," says Jones. "Just once, and it was from a distance, but I could still feel his greatness. The man has the gift of gab, he does."

"He sure can speak," says Brown. "What's it like being the second most powerful man in the world, behind only Emperor Gestahl himself?"

"It's got to be thrilling, I'd say." Patrick scratches his head. "I just have myself a few humble responsibilities, and I was never much of a lawyer. I'm lucky to be mayor. Brady, though, he's a legend."

"Almost a god," says Jones.

"Watch yourself," says Patrick, "Or you'll be the next arrested."

"Ain't no god but the Emperor," says Brown.

"Just a slip." Jones looks mortified. "Won't happen again."

"See to it," says Patrick. "I'd hate to see our innkeeper in prison during the biggest tourism event this little hamlet has ever seen."

"Aye, I'd be losin' a mighty profit."

"Speaking of which," says Brown, "we'd best hurry with this. I need to set up my shop. I hear hundreds of people are comin' just to watch the trial, and they're all gonna be hungry some time or another."

"Ships have already been arrivin' with people," says Jones. "Seen 'em. Booked quite a few for my best suites."

"Rich folks?"

"Yep, even a king. Figaro, I think."

"The king of Figaro is in our town?"

"As we speak."

"This might be bigger than I thought."

"I reckon so."

Their conversation is interrupted by a well-dressed and semi-well-mannered man, obviously from out of town.

"Excuse me, fellas," he says. "Name's Arvis. Best newsman in all of Narshe, here to cover the trial. Mind if I have a word?"

"No problem," says Brown.

"So, you're counting on getting some business out of this circus. Care any about how the case turns out?"

"I revere our Emperor," says Brown. "If June Cole did anything wrong, I want justice to prevail. The extra business is a bonus."

"I see," says Arvis. "Do you know Mrs. Cole personally?"

"I seen her a quite a few times," says Brown. "I run the only item shop in town, so I know pretty much everybody."

"Is she generally a good person?"

"Generally, yes. She pays her bills, is polite. Never expected nothin' like this out of her."

"You've turned on her, then?"

"I support our Emperor. Mrs. Cole turned on him."

"I see. Is your opinion the popular one around here?"

"It better be," says the mayor. "Anything else is illegal."

"We're all happy to follow the law, anyway," says Jones.

"Interesting." Arvis pulls a small yellow notebook and a pen out of his jacket pocket, scribbles something down, and puts them away. "I can't wait to see the battle begin. Trial of the century."

"Won't be much of a battle, I'm afraid," says Brown. "William J. Brady is the prosecuting attorney, I hear. He's just gonna make mincemeat out of whatever poor sap gets stuck defending Mrs. Cole. She's doomed."

"I've heard that much," says Arvis, "but I'm still interested."

"Don't set youself up for a letdown, now," says Brown.

"I don't plan on it."

Arvis bids the trio farewell and marches on to find another interview. Opportunity presents itself in the form of Elijah Gillis, Kohlingen's preacher. His eyes narrow as Arvis approaches.

"Yer one o' them reporters, ain't ya?"

"That I am. Name's Arvis. Best newsman in all of Narshe, and the world, for that matter."

"Here to watch a heathen get her due?"

"I'm here to see what I see and write back to the paper."

"What you're gonna see is a traitor getting the fiery judgement she deserves."

"My judgement is politely reserved until after the trial, thank you."

"You lack devotion, don't you? When's the last time you went to church?"

"I'm the one asking the questions here, thank you. Who are you?"

"The Reverend Elijah Gillis."

"Ah. I can see you're clearly affiliated with one side of the trial before it even begins."

"Don't get snappy with me. Pompous foreigner."

"No pomp here. Just circumstance."

"Whatever. Just remember that if you're an atheist, you're get what's coming to you."

"I'm sure that's true, Reverend."

"Revere the Emperor."

"One another subject, do you know the defendant at all?"

"I do. Her son and my daughter are an item."

"Really? What are their names?"

"Rachel is my daughter. Locke is the traitor's son. Troublesome kid, but he's no traitor. At least that didn't rub off on him."

"So you support this relationship?"

"Not really, but my Rachel will be good for him. I've always been disappointed in Locke, but he's settled down since he fell in love with Rachel."

"Does any of this affect your feelings on the trial of Mrs. Cole?"

"June will suffer and rot, I've already said. I don't care if she is ever family or not."

"And what do you think of Brady?"

"Honorable man. Reveres his Emperor. Agent of God himself."

"God being the Emperor?"

"Of course!"

"Just making sure you're, uh, not preaching heresy yourself."

"Gah! Of course I don't! I love our Emperor and obey his servants. Brady is the greatest of those. Defends those in need of defending. Attacks those in need of attacking. Regular hero, right up there with Leo, Celes, and Kefka."

"The Generals, huh?"

"Yeah, I know Brady serves in a different area, but God gives each of us a task, and we have to stick to what we're given. The harvest needs many workers."

"As would any harvest."

"It is appointed to me to serve God directly, and to you to report on his greatness and majesty so that the far off people of Narshe may know what wonders he has wrought in the far corners of the world."

"Corners, huh?"

"Yes, corners. I ain't buyin' none o' that garbage about the world being round. I'll go to my grave proclaiming the Emperor's gospel that the world is square."

"Will that be your epitaph?"

"It just might."

"Clever fellow. Continuing to preach your doctrine even after death."

"Eternal life is mine by the grace of the Emperor."

"He sure knows something about eternal life. For someone who's been around a thousand years, Gestahl looks remarkably young."

"God is the same today as he was yesterday, and he shall remain the same tomorrow. A thousand years is but a day to him."

"And you expect to live forever, just like the Emperor?"

"I do, in heaven."

"And what about Brady?"

"Scripture has a few people in it so holy they didn't have to face death. Enoch, Elijah, and now Brady. Who else walks with God like he does?"

"Indeed, few are closer to the Emperor than William J. Brady."

"Pity those like June Cole. God will show them no mercy. He shall cast her into the fiery pit of doom, from which no man may escape. There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, and it shall be too late to repent."

"It's not now?"

"June Cole is doomed. Her blasphemy against the spirit of Emperor Gestahl's wisdom has caused her to forfeit her soul."

"Interesting."

"And be ye warned, the same shall happen to you should you ever stray from the straight and narrow path. For wide is the road that leads to destruction, and many find it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

XXX

June stands near the bars at the front end of her jail cell. Her visitors crowd around the other side. Her husband, Ward, grasps her hands through the bars. Locke stands to his left, staring sympathetically at his mother. June tears up.

"I don't know what's going to happen," she says.

"We're doing all we can. I've been trying to get you a lawyer." Ward looks concerned.

"I know, honey. I know you're giving it your best shot."

"I still love you, know you."

"I know. I know you'll always be on my side. You've got the scars to prove it now."

"It's nothing. If someone, soldier or not, tries to take you from me again, I'll fight again. I don't care if I get hurt."

"Police brutality. No other explanation. They were there for me, not for you. I think they just like hurting people."

"If it's in the name of their god, they'll enjoy anything."

"At least Locke wasn't there. Poor baby, having to see his mother thrown in jail like this."

Locke scowls at the cell bars. "I'll figure something out. You can't be hanged. You just can't."

"Locke," says Ward, "there's still a chance to win this in court. No lockpicking just yet."

"Yeah, fine. I just hope that Brady fellow doesn't win over the jury just be being there."

"We're getting the best lawyer we can find."

"The best who will risk his career to defend someone accused of blasphemy, you mean."

"Locke!" Ward turns to him. "Don't talk about your mother that way."

"It's just not fair. It's a stupid law. It's a stupid Empire."

"Locke," says June, "we don't want to lose you, too. Please try to be obedient for now."

"Mom, you did nothing wrong! That creation story is stupid. You had every right to teach science. Your students deserve to hear the truth."

"The truth is that the Emperor makes the rules."

"Might makes right?"

"Afraid so."

"So... stupid!" Locke punches a bar and gets a sore fist. "Is there nothing anybody can do? Can't Gestahl be removed from power?"

"Locke!" Ward is angry now. "That kind of talk will get us all killed."

"And what kind of life do we have, kissing the Emperor's feet with every word we say?"

"What would Rachel say?" June plays her trump card. "What about her? Would she want to see you hanged?"

This quiets Locke down a bit. He bites his lip in frustration.

"This is all too much. I'll be back later."

"Take care, Locke." June waves to him as he ascends the stairs to the ground floor. Locke makes sure he stamps as hard as he can on each step until he reaches the top, and then he punches the wall with his non-injured hand.

"Locke!" Rachel has just arrived to visit Mrs. Cole. "Don't hurt yourself."

"They're taking my mother away from me. How could I possibly hurt any worse?"

"Please be careful, Locke. If you get caught being angry with Emperor Gestahl, you'll end up on trial right along with your mother."

"Hey, it's me."

"Right, Mr. Reckless. You know Gestahl himself is going to be here in person to watch the trial?"

"I know. I'll be careful."

"Please. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"How's your dad taking all of this?"

"Not too well. He wants to believe you're not going to follow your mother, but he doesn't completely trust you. He's told me he wants me to be a good influence on you. Keep you on the right path."

"That old coot!"

"You're already on thin ice with him. As am I. Please, please don't say or do anything that could make him separate us."

"Rachel, nothing anyone can do can make me leave you. I promise. I'll always be yours, no matter what your family says. No matter what happens. Even the end of the world can't kill my love for you."

"Locke..."

"I'm not afraid of your father or Gestahl or Brady or anyone."

"Brady is powerful."

"He's only a lawyer. And I'm sneaky. You know I can get away from any cop after me."

"I know you're a thief, if that's what you mean."

"Treasure hunter. And the treasure I'm after now is the most valuable one I've ever hunted – my mother. Only, I don't know how I'm going to rescue her."

"We have to wait for the trial."

"If only there were some organized opposition to the Empire."

"Locke!"

"I'm only saying. Right now, the Emperor has no competition. He can do whatever he wants, whether it's right or wrong. Now, he's telling people that he made everything. You know it's not true. Any educated person should know that."

"It's what he says, and what he says goes."

"It doesn't have to be that way. I know there have to be people out there who hate the Empire. They're just too afraid to say it."

"Please, stop."

"That's my next goal. Rachel, I have to."

"Have to what?"

"I have to travel the world and find others like me. Others who want change."

"What about me?"

"You'll be safe enough here."

"You're leaving now?"

"No, I'm going to see how the trial turns out and see if Mom needs rescuing."

"You're crazy. You're reckless."

"I do what I have to do."

Rachel sighs. "Do be careful, then. You know I love you."

"I love you, too."

XXX

Back outside, a storm of people gathers. The epicenter is a newly arrived party, fresh from Nikeah. William J. Brady and his wife, Beatrice, march at the front like Hannibal's elephants, throngs of admirers worshipping them at every step but taking great care not to stand in their way. Brady's appearance is as impressive as his reputation. He towers above the townsfolk and his escorts like an oak tree overlooking a pile of acorns. His voice booms like an echoing avalanche. Next to him, his wife seems frail in both stature and temperment.

Albert Patrick greets Brady with a humble handshake.

"We of the city of Kohlingen welcome you, servant of Emperor Gestahl. We wish to provide you with the best accomodations possible, and we sincerely hope you win your case. Not that anyone is worried."

"Why, thank you, mayor," booms Brady, causing Patrick to take a step back. "I look forward to the time I shall be spending here, and I daresay what I have seen so far looks quite nice. More than nice, really."

"We are honored to hear that, really." Patrick makes a bow.

"The honor is all mine. After all, I am not here to vacation. I'm here to defend the good name and divine teachings of Emperor Gestahl, whose name be praised."

"Amen!" shout several random people in the crowd.

"No blasphemer can stand against the divine wrath of our God and Emperor. Where defiant fools oppose him with military might, the esteemed Generals Kefka, Leo, and Celes must take up arms and, by opposing, end the rebellion. But when a foolish schoolteacher attempts to poison the minds of the youth, the task falls to me. I consider it no less an honor, as I am fighting for your children. My life may not be at stake, as our Generals' lives are in war, but your future is. That is why I do not take my burden lightly."

More cheers erupt. One of the happy Kohlingenians is a girl of about five, who waddles up to Brady and offers him a laurel wreath. Brady smiles, places it on his head, and hoists the child onto his shoulder.

"This child – I'm fighting for her!"

At the back of the crowd, Locke and Rachel try hard not to react to Brady's showmanship. Locke scratches his ear, spits on the ground, and fidgets with his hands while shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Rachel places her arm on Locke's shoulder.

"You look worried."

"I am, Rache."

Rachel does not reply verbally. Instead, she squeezes Locke's shoulder harder.

"I'll say you look worried," says Arvis out of nowhere.

Rachel jumps. "Who are you and where did you come from?"

"Arvis is my name. I'm a newsman from Narshe, and I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Don't scare us, please."

"You have nothing to be scared of, Miss."

"Rachel."

"Rachel, eh? Then this is Locke?"

"In the flesh. Has my reputation preceded me?" Locke's face lights up a bit.

"Indeed, it has. It's your mother on trial, right?"

"Yes, true."

"Well, what do you think? You think she has a chance?"

"I... I don't know what to..."

"Don't ask questions like that!" Rachel looks like she wants to slap Arvis.

"I'm a newsman."

"That doesn't give you the right..."

"So I'm here to report the news to you. I'm not the only one Narshe is sending to the festivities here."

"Festivities? How dare you! Locke's mother is..."

"Is in good hands."

"Huh?"

"Don't tell anyone else, but I know who the counsel for the defense is going to be. Some friends and I have managed to get Clarence Drummond."

The name shocks the pace of the conversation like the crack of a whip.

"Clarence Drummond?" Rachel's mouth hangs open.

"Clarence Drummond, the most agile legal mind in the entire world. If anyone can get your mother off the hook, he's the one."

"Wow. I... don't know what to say."

"Smile. Cheer up. Things aren't hopeless."

"How did you manage to get someone like Drummond to come defend a poor schoolteacher?"

"I'll tell you, but only in private. Follow me if you want to know."

XXX

Arvis opens the door to Kohlingen Inn Luxury Suite #1 and waves his two guests in after him. They sit down on a heavily cushioned couch, and Arvis takes a seat opposite them in an overstuffed chair.

"Keep your voices low, and swear yourselves to secrecy."

"We swear," says Locke.

"I want to hear it from both of you."

"I swear, too," says Rachel.

"Good. I can't be letting this information out of the room. You only get to know because you are personally involved in this already, so I have reason to believe you might have a bit of a personal grudge against the Empire."

"What are you saying?" Rachel's voice rises above the acceptable level, earning her a scolding from Arvis.

"You want to get in trouble? Pipe down."

"Sorry."

"Just be careful. Look, I told you my friends don't particularly like the Empire, right? Well, Drummond doesn't, either. He hates it."

"Hates it?"

"Hates it. That's why he's here. He wants to strike a blow against Gestahl's tyranny. What better way to do that than to win a legal battle against a stupid law."

"Stupid law?"

"You don't seriously believe the world was created a thousand years ago by the Emperor, do you?"

Rachel doesn't answer, but Locke does. "Of course not."

"The Emperor wants complete control over everyone's minds. If they think he's a god, he can do whatever he wants. He can take whatever he wants. He can even kill whomever he wants. No repercussions at all."

"We know this," says Rachel.

"That's what this trial is going to be. A battle for people's minds. If Drummond can take advantage of the hype and get your mother free, then maybe, just maybe, Gestahl will lose some of his control. Just a little is all we need."

"And then what?" says Locke.

"I don't know, but times are bleak enough we need to go for whatever small hope we have."

"Agreed."

"So meet me after the trial."

"What?"

"Locke, I know your reputation. I know of your skills. Your bravery. I also know there are other people out there like you. When this thing is over, maybe they'll be bold enough to stick their necks out. We can find them, and then we pool our strengths to see if we can't do something about the Empire."

"Count me in."

"That's the spirit. Rachel?"

"I'm going to have to think about this some more."

"Think all you want, but please don't give us away."

"I won't. I couldn't let anything happen to Locke."

"Depending on how things play out, Locke could become one of the greatest heroes the world has ever known."

"And he could die."

"Yes, he could die. But it would be for a good cause."

"I'll be sad. I'll worry."

"We'll be as careful as we can. For now, though, we should get back outside before we start to look suspicious."

Rachel takes Locke's hand. The two look into each other's faces, and then, without needing to say a word, they walk out the door.

XXX

"Drummond?" For the first time all day, Brady looks displeased. He slams his fist into the dinner table. "My opponent is Drummond? Clarence Drummond?"

"That's what we're hearing," says the personal assistant who delivered the news. "He's due to arrive tomorrow."

"He's a heathen! He's an atheist!" Reverend Elijah Gillis spits at a fly buzzing around his nose. "He shouldn't even be allowed in our town."

"Nonsense," says Brady. "What is gained by crushing a gnat?"

To illustrate his point, Brady claps his hands together and does just that. He then wipes the stain off on his pants.

"I'd rather face the best out there than some nobody. If the most powerful, most articulate, and most shrewd of the heathens can't touch the divine word of our Emperor, then nobody can. When people the world over learn of our great victory, Emperor Gestahl's glory will shine brighter than ever before. None will dare oppose him. Praise be to the Emperor!"

"Amen," says Gillis, apparently satisfied with the response.

"And crush Drummond I will."

"Amen."

"Blasphemy has consequences both eternal and temporal."

"Amen."

"And I humbly accept the responsibility of being God's instrument of judgement."

"Amen."

"To do that, I must rest. The Emperor deserves only the best."

"You do that," says Gillis. "The rest of us shall pray for a swift and decisive victory."

XXX

Miles away from Brady's luxury suite, Clarence Drummond rocks back and forth with the waves as he lies in the bed of his cabin. On the nightstand rest some notes he has been going over, and underneath them sits a valise with the rest of his materials. Doctor Banon, one of the witnesses he has prepared, sits in a chair across the room, poring over the some briefs.

"I hope this works," Banon says.

"It's the best chance we've ever had," says Drummond. "I'm not about to waste it."

"All the Emperor's official mouthpieces are speaking ill of you. I must say this is not a good career move."

"What good is having a nice career if you have a wasted life?"

"True. I just want to remind you of what you could be giving up."

"We're all prepared to make sacrifices, aren't we?"

"We are."

"The future is at stake. I won't back down."

"And I won't let you down."

"You, Banon, are a man who loves to think. I have to believe you would like to keep that freedom, so I will not doubt your dedication to this cause."

"Indeed."

"Today, they've come for a schoolteacher. Tomorrow, they could come for the doctors, and then the lawyers, and then the carpenters, and then soon, everyone is gone but the brainless zombies who have devoted every waking minute to refusing to think. What kind of world would be filled completely with Gestahl's preachers?"

"A terrible world."

"Even if we fail, we can at least avoid looking at ourselves in the mirror in the morning and feeling ashamed."

"Speaking of which, it's late. I'm going to go turn in. You should, too."

"I think I'll lie here awake a little longer."

"Good luck, Clarence."

"Thank you."

End Scene I

Scene II

The preliminary hearings have begun. James Jones sits in the box at the front of the courtroom. Dennis Martel, the district attorney, questions him in order to see if he will make a suitable juror.

"How often do you go to church, Mr. Jones?"

"Just Sundays."

"That's good enough for the prosecution. Your Honor, we accept this man as a member of the jury."

Jones heads off to the bench, but Judge Odell Lovett stops him.

"You're not yet excused, sir."

"But he said..."

"The defense must first examine you."

Drummond stands up, as much as he ever does. In contrast with his legal opponent Brady, Drummond's most salient physical characteristic is his overexaggerated slouch. He seems incapable of standing up completely straight. His clothes, though expensive-looking, are something less than fashionable. All in all, he looks only about half as professional as Brady.

"Thank you, Your Honor," says Drummond. "Mr. Jones, why are you so eager to get a seat on that jury box?"

"Everyone says it's going to be quite a show."

"And so it will be, but I have some questions for you first."

"Shoot."

"Have you ever read a book about Evolution?"

"I haven't."

"Read anything about Charles Darwin?"

"No, sir."

"I'll bet you read your Imperial Bible, then."

"Not that either, sir."

"Why not?"

"Can't read."

"You're lucky. Your Honor, this man will do."

Lovett waves Jones over to the jury box, where he sits down eagerly.

"One spot left," says Lovett. "Will the bailiff please call the next candidate?"

Tom Baker, the bailiff, speaks up: "George Brown, please take the stand."

Brown walks to the front, where Martel begins to question him.

"Mr. Brown, please state your occupation."

"I run the item shop."

"Mr. Brown, would you call yourself a religious man?"

"I'm as religious as the next man."

"Do you revere the Emperor?"

"Of course."

"Do you have any children?"

"Nope. No time, with the store and all."

"But you have a wife?"

"Yes."

"If you had a child, how would you feel if you heard your child was attending a school with a godless teacher?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" shouts Drummond. "There will be no denouncing of the defendant before the trial even begins."

"Sustained," says Lovett.

Brady continues, "Do you have any prejudice for or against the defendant that might affect your ability to reason impartially on this matter?"

"No, sir. I only know her from when she buys things from my store."

"Your Honor, this man will do. He seems honest and God-fearing."

Judge Lovett says, "Will the defense examine the juror?"

Drummond stalks up to the stand and begins.

"You've said you're a religious man, but just how hard do you work at it?"

"Not too hard, I guess. I'm too busy with the store. My wife does most of the religious work."

Brady cringes.

"So you mind the store, and she minds the religion. Now, what do you know about Evolution?"

"Nothing until recently."

"Never even heard of Darwin?"

"Not until this business started."

"That's enough. Your Honor, he seems impartial, so the defense accepts him."

"Fair enough," says Lovett. "We now have a jury of twelve honorable and honest men.

XXX

The audience for the preliminaries is quite the collection of personalities. An entire section of chairs is filled by reporters from all over the world. Of these, Arvis seems to be the only one not frantically writing down everything he hears. Apparently confident in his memory, he prefers to twirl a pencil in his hands and think a few snide thoughts about the action at the front of the room. About halfway through, Doctor Banon enters with some of the rest of Drummonds entourage. Banon sits next to Arvis, and the two find quite a bit to whisper about.

Several other notable figures are in attendance. Seated in the front row in the middle is Edgar Roni Figaro, and next to him is his brother, Sabin Rene Figaro. Edgar has been watching the procedings with as much interest as anyone there, and his face is a testament to that fact. His chancellor takes notes for him, but Edgar takes his own to make sure he doesn't miss anything. Sabin cares less, but he reacts when something big happens.

Further back sits Reverend Elijah Gillis, who practically foams at the mouth every time Drummond says anything and neary jumps out of his chair whenever Brady so much as raises an eyebrow. Elsewhere sit Ward, Locke, and Rachel. Rachel wears a poker face, but Locke and Ward are visibly supportive of the defense.

Perhaps the most notable observers make their entrance just as the final juror is selected, as if they are arriving only to make a statement. Everyone in the room, from Judge Lovett to Brady to Drummond to even Arvis falls silent as the double doors on the top middle balcony swing open. In marches General Celes Chere, stone-faced and menacing. Behind her are the other two generals, Kefka and Leo. Finally, flanked by two members of the Imperial Guard, Emperor Gestahl himself files into the room. The entire imperial party sits silently, content to send chills through everyone else in the room. Even those who hate Gestahl experience more fear than anger at his presence.

Judge Lovett finally breaks the moment. "Would everyone please rise for our Emperor Gestahl?" Everyone does. After a suitable moment of deference, Lovett speaks again.

"This court is pleased to see the safe arrival of the Emperor's party. May he rule forever, and may his name forever be praised. This court is now recessed."

The lump that forms in June Cole's throat feels like it's the size of a grapefruit.

End of Act I


	2. Act II

Act II

Scene I

"Tell me, Mr. Brady, what do you think of the Emperor himself watching the trial?" Arvis is in full reporter mode.

"Truth be told, I don't think about it too much," says Brady. "I work directly under him, so I see him quite a bit. Still have to be reverent, of course, but it doesn't affect my work. When you're as loyal to the Emperor as I am, you worship him in everything you do, and it makes your work better instead of worse."

"Do you expect it to have any effect on the outcome of the case?"

"Heavens, no. It's open and shut in favor of the prosecution anyway, so there's no room for improvement." Brady chuckles grimly. "Though it's a nice, visible warning to my legal opponent and the jury in case anyone has too much sympathy for the defendant."

"What do you mean by that?"

"June Cole is a traitor. We all knew that from before we even got here. With Emperor Gestahl watching us, we'll all be reminded constantly that helping a traitor, or voting a traitor innocent, is itself a capital crime."

"Should we presume the guilt of the defendant before it is established? What about the law? What about due process?"

"The Emperor is the law. His word is due process."

Arvis blinks before he writes this last bit down.

"I see."

"And when this trial is over, the whole world will see just how important the Emperor's holy word is. You, as a newsman, will make sure of this."

"Oh, I shall. Don't worry about that."

"Good. Well, then, I'm off to meet with Reverend Gillis. There's a prayer meeting dedicated to me over in the park."

"I'll come, too. I'm here on a press pass, and I don't intend to miss any part of the show."

XXX

Gillis's face is flushed.

"Back in those days, the entire cosmos was dark and formless. There was nothing, until Emperor Gestahl spake the universe into existence. The clouds gathered, the waters congregated, the mountains shook, and the universe took form, like the corpse of a dragon. Verily, I say unto you, he who believeth not in the holy origins of our universe, wrought by the mighty right hand of Gestahl Almighty, shall be cast into the pit."

Locke and Rachel stand with Arvis, watching the preacher, half expecting foam to drip from his mouth. Arvis scribbles some notes. Locke angrily tosses a pebble into the trees.

"Locke!" Rachel caresses his hand. "Don't do something you'll regret."

"Listen to him. The maniac. Arvis, are you writing this all down?"

"I'm getting it. I don't know how much will make it into my final column, but there should be enough to make things interesting. Yesterday's certainly caused a stir."

"Wow," says Rachel. "Those carrier pigeons are getting faster all the time."

"I didn't send it out by carrier pigeon this time."

Rachel blew back a strand of her dark hair. "I know you didn't use a ship."

"Nope, I sent my draft to Figaro by telegraph."

"Telegraph?"

"New technology. Should make pigeons obsolete within a few years, if it catches on. Then all they'll be good for is eating."

"Eww." Rachel's face tells the other two that she doesn't catch the joke.

Arvis motions for her to let him listen to Gillis some more, so she obliges.

Gillis continues ranting and raving. "And let those who are traitors, and those who harbor traitors, and those who support traitors, and those who have sympathy for traitors and heathens and sinners be forever cast out of the presence of our holy Emperor. For it is decreed that they suffer the pain of a thousand deaths. All praise be to our Emperor, who is holy and just!"

"Amen!" say various people in the crowd.

"Do we revere our Emperor?" says Gillis.

"We do!" says the crowd.

"Do we worship him even unto death?"

"We do!"

"Do we condemn this traitor, even as our Emperor wills us to condemn her?"

"We do!"

"Do we wish the same torment of a thousand deaths on all foolish enough to disagree with the holy Emperor's divine will?"

"We do! Amen!"

"Amen, indeed, bretheren. And the Emperor is pleased with our loyalty. He shall bless us with his infinite kindness. May death come swiftly to his enemies!"

"May death come swiftly to his enemies!"

Locke hacks and spits at the ground.

XXX

Back in the courthouse, Clarence Drummond is having a few words with June Cole.

"Mr. Drummond, do we have any chance?"

"With the Emperor here, you mean?"

"Yes, that's what I mean. Did you see him? Who's going to vote me innocent with that demon staring on the whole time?"

"I'm going to do the best I can. If this trial is fair, I should be able to get you off."

"But I did technically violate the law."

"It's a law that was just made up. It probably conflicts with other laws. Maybe we can make a case that you were just following those earlier laws."

"Maybe. I don't really know the nitty gritty of it that well."

"It's our best shot. And it's a stupid law. Shouldn't be on the books at all."

"You don't revere the Emperor at all, do you?"

"That old coot? Of course not. He's not a god. Gestahl only presents himself as a god so he can justify raising taxes."

"Yes, the taxes have been going up, but nobody dares complain."

"You complained."

"I always taught my students there were two sides to every story. Gestahl's version of how the world began is not the only one. My pupils have the right to believe something more sensible than the Emperor's fairy tales."

"Did you know that all the educated people at the universities agree with you? Everyone who has studied biology believes in Evolution. I've talked to quite a few of them myself. They reject the fairy tales, but Gestahl has them too frightened to say anything in public anymore."

"That's horrible."

"How old is the textbook you're using?"

"Textbook?"

"The biology book. The one you're using to teach your kids Evolution."

"Thirty years, I think."

"Back then, people were still allowed to speak their minds. Scientific advances were allowed for people not involved with Gestahl's military. Someone had to write the book, right?"

"Of course."

"Thirty years ago was before Gestahl became drunk with power."

"Now I can't even teach what's in my textbooks for fear of committing a thought crime."

"He can't have the kids growing up learning how to think critically, can he? If they are anything other than mindless drones, they might question his rule."

"I shudder to think what the world would be like if everyone in it were just like Reverend Gillis."

"What a pathetic man. He's dedicated himself to a fiction. An elaborate one, true, but all he cares about is keeping it alive, and he gets angry at anyone who doesn't share in his fiction."

"He doesn't think my son is good enough for his daughter, but I think he's got to be a good influence on her, compulsive treasure hunter or not."

"From what I've heard about your son, he's likely to become a great man. He doesn't let Gestahl tell him how to think, and that means he's doing his part to make the future better than the present."

"Those words are very kind and comforting to me."

"I haven't even told you how brave you are, have I? You're perhaps the only one willing to think in public. Even when thinking is a crime, you don't let it stop you."

"I'm very flattered, Mr. Drummond."

"I'm not quite sure yet, but I think you could be even more influential than any of us here can guess now. Your arrest could mark the beginning of the end for Gestahl."

"How?"

"I don't know. I really don't. But I think it's something worth hoping for."

"What I'm hoping for is to go free."

"And what I'm hoping for is a world in which you can."

End Scene I

Scene II

The trial is as much a spectacle as anyone could have expected. Hundreds of people more than the fire code permits crowd the courthouse, including the lawyers, witnesses, dignitaries, and interested political figures. Some enterprising Kohlingenian youths have printed out programs identifying the major players in the trial; most of these end up being used as fans for sweltering spectators.

The sights are impressive, but the sounds don't quite match up. For all the people gathered, everything is eerily quiet and has been since the Emperor took his seat alongside his generals. Every child in the area has been warned by both parents not to do or say anything out of line for fear of the wrath of God, who has stopped by to take in the event. Only the very youngest children don't get the message, and they're not in attendance. Everyone else has had fear of the Emperor drilled into their heads from such a young age that they find nothing easier than sitting still and being quiet while he's watching.

Even Arvis is on his best bahavior, as far as anyone else can tell. He restricts his conversations with those parties he finds interesting to what he can pass on scrap paper notes, and he's very careful even with these. In order not to cause a stir or risk having a message intercepted, he is sitting in the general audience, rather than with the other newsmen. He seems nearly as engrossed in what his neighbor, Edgar Roni Figaro, has to say as he is in the trial. It is not immediately obvious whether he is more impressed by the content of Edgar's notes or by the fact that Edgar is writing them with a mechanical pen.

Locke sits with Ward and Rachel, looking worried yet secretly running the tip of his finger along the blade of a knife he has strapped to the inside of his jacket. Rachel's arm is around him in a vain attempt to calm him down. Ward has been giving the evil eye to just about everyone he sees.

Doctor Banon sits with the other witnesses, waiting to be called. His mind is on Clarence Drummond and the things is has prepared to say. Waiting for the trial to start is like sitting in a raft about to run through the rapids on the Lete River. He has only a vague idea of what to expect, but he knows ever word that will be spoken that day will be vitally important. In the back of his mind, he dreads his turn at the stand, when he is certain his career will take a hit. All for freedom, he reminds himself.

William J. Brady is quite possibly the happiest person in the room. He idly drums his fingers on his table as he waits for everything to begin, supremely confident that he will win. His biggest worry is what food should be served at the victory party, whether he will look good for his admirers when he marches out of the room after the verdict is delivered, and whether or not Gestahl will give him a bonus. The possibility of losing has not even crossed his mind.

Drummond is sweating, and not just because of the heat. He can almost feel the responsibility of being a voice for liberty crushing his back. That and the uncomfortable wooden chair he has been given are enough of a distraction that he almost forgets what he is there for. The urge to quit and go home is strong but not strong enough. Sitting beside him is a good, kind woman whose only crime is thinking for herself, and he owes it to her to do his best whether he feels in perfect health or not. And he is working not just for her, but also for any number of people who might be inspired by June Cole's courage. He sifts through his notes one last time.

XXX

Brady prowls the front of the courtroom. Benny, at the witness stand, more cowers than sits as he endures Brady's line of questioning.

"Tell us, young Master Benny, what exactly did Mrs. Cole teach you in biology class?"

"Lots of things."

"What did she teach you about Evolution?"

"She taught us what scientists learned. We is related to the apes, and they used to be other kinds of animals, and if you go back millions of years, everything lived in the ocean as bacteramums. Bacteriums."

"And what did you learn in church?"

"Reverend Brown told us that God created everything a thousand years ago."

"Did Mrs. Cole ever mention God when she told you where you came from?"

"No, sir, just monkeys."

"You hear that? All this talk of 'Evil-ution' and not hide nor hair of a mention of God, our glorious Emperor! I'm sure everyone here who can hear the sound of this young boy's voice is moved by the tragedy of his confusion. He has been taught that he came up from the muck as a disgusting little bug. He has been stripped of his dignity as a servant of our glorious Emperor. He has been poisoned, and oh, what a poison! Whether in bottles or in books, we must label our poisons. I tell you, if June Cole is not found guilty, this boy could grow up to be part of a degenerate next generation, immoral, based, and debauched, and reared only on godless science. But if the full penalty of the law is meted out to Mrs. Cole, then the faithful the world over, who are carefully following this trial, will call this courtroom blessed!"

The room erupts into applause. The Emperor's vassal has delivered a crushing blow already, and everyone knows it. Only a select few in the audience remain unmoved, among them Locke and the Emperor's entourage.

"Your witness, sir." Brady winks at Drummond, who rises from his seat and lurches toward the stand.

"Benny, I heard you say lots of interesting things about the origin of species. Where did Mrs. Cole reference all this? Where did she get the ideas?"

"From a book," Benny says.

"Which book?"

"I suppose one Mr. Darwin wrote."

"And how do you feel about what Darwin said? Do you think it's right or wrong?"

"Objection!" Brady jumps up. "You're asking a mere boy a question of morality. How is he supposed to know about such things?"

"I am trying to establish that this boy, or Mrs. Cole, or Darwin, or you yourself, or anyone here, has the right to think!"

"The right to think is not on trial here," says Judge Lovett.

"With all due respect to the bench, the right to think is at the very core of this case. It's in danger. I'd go so far as to say it's on trial."

"A woman is on trial today,"corrects Lovett.

"A thinking woman. And she is threatened with death – death! -- because she dares speak what she thinks."

"Please rephrase your question, then."

"Fine. Benny, has any of this information about Evolution harmed you any?"

"Beg pardon, sir?"

"Has Evolution hurt you any? Do you still feel healthy? Your pitching arm still okay?" Drummond pokes Benny's right arm.

"No, sir, though I'm a southpaw."

"Indeed. Still honor your father and mother?"

"I do, sir."

"Steal anything today? Murder anybody?"

"Objection!" says Dennis Martel.

"Sustained," says Judge Lovett.

Drummond shrugs.

"Why don't you ask him if his faith in the holy word of the Emperor has been shaken?" Brady smirks.

"When I need your invaluable help, Mr. Brady, I shall ask you for it. In the meantime, Benny, do you believe everything you heard from Mrs. Cole?"

"I don't know yet," says Benny. "I have to think it over."

"Good for you," says Drummond. "That will be all."

"The witness is excused," says Lovett. "Next witness, please."

"Will Miss Lilly Wiess please come to the witness stand?" says Dennis Martel.

A girl who looks to be somewhere in her mid twenties marches out from the crowd. Locke recognizes her as a teacher at the elementary school.

"Miss Wiess," says Brady, "can you say you know the defendant well enough to give us a fair account of her character?"

"I've seen her often enough at the school that I would think I ought to be able to."

"And would you say she is very devoted to our divine Emperor?"

"No more so than anyone else, I don't believe."

"Have you ever heard her say anything that could indicate she is anything less than perfectly loyal?"

"I have, sir."

"Please tell this court what you heard."

"I heard her telling some of the other faculty in the teacher's lounge that she thought the Emperor had too much power."

Murmurs ripple through the crowd at this revelation. Drummond groans.

Brady sneers. "Sounds like something a traitor would say. What, exactly, did she say?"

"She told a joke so blasphemous that I am afraid to repeat it."

"Your Honor, I request special dispensation for the witness to repeat the joke."

"Granted," says Lovett.

"Okay, then," says Brady.

Wiess sighs. "She said that some policy or other was..." The teacher coughs. "She said it was another example of the Emperor having no clothes on."

No one laughs. A few brave souls dare to look up at Gestahl's seat to see if he has any sort of reaction and are relieved to see that he remains expressionless.

"Your Honor," says Brady, "this woman is clearly a traitor. She has a history of being a traitor, and she is bringing up a generation of blasphemous young scamps who will overturn the peace when they are old enough to become violent revolutionaries. This must be stopped."

The audience cheers again. June Cole sinks low in her seat.

XXX

"I never said that," June whispers to Drummond. "I never told that joke. She's lying."

"I should have known," says Drummond. "Paid off, maybe? Or does she just not like you?"

"Paid, I'll bet. I hardly know her."

"I have an idea. Bear with me. We might win this yet."

XXX

Judge Lovett speaks. "Would the defense like to cross examine the witness?"

"Certainly, Your Honor," says Drummond. He straightens his necktie and approaches the stand.

"Miss Wiess, you say you know the defendant, Mrs. Cole, quite well. Do you stand by your statement?"

"Of course I do."

"You know Mrs. Cole from school?"

"I see her every day. I have lunch with her on occasion. I can say with conviction that I know her very well."

"So you know Mrs. Cole that well, eh? Please help me out. I just met her recently, and I seem to have forgotten her first name. What was it, again?"

Lilly Wiess's face tightens up, as if she's just been slapped. "I, uh... It's, uh..."

"This court doesn't have all day, Miss Wiess. If you know Mrs. Cole that well, you ought to know her name. Perhaps you know her only as 'Mrs. Cole'because you have no personal relationship with her at all. Perhaps you are not in a position to say anything about her character."

"I – I, uh, it's, uh..."

"Do you not know her name?"

Drummond makes a mistake. He stares intently at the witness without paying any attention to the prosecution's table, where Brady is scrawling a name onto a slip of paper and holding it up for Lilly Wiess to see.

"It's June. Sorry, my mind went blank for a moment. These trials, they're so stressful."

A look of disappointment falls over Drummond's face.

"Are you sure about that? It took you a while to get her name. How do we know you're not playing games with us?"

"I swear I'm not."

"Perjury is a crime, you know."

"I know."

"So you remember the defendant. You remember this joke she allegedly told you."

"I remember it like it was yesterday."

"Which policy was it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Which Imperial policy was Mrs. Cole – June – criticizing?"

"It was..."

"Do you even remember?"

"Yes, I said I remembered like it was yesterday."

"Then what was it?"

"Last year's tax hike."

"You swear it was?"

"Yes, I swear."

"And what was your reaction to Mrs. Cole's statement?"

"I told her she was wrong to doubt our glorious Emperor, and she had best not speak blasphemies again."

"What was the context of the remark, again?"

"We were gathered around the paper, reading about the news and discussing it. When we began reading about the tax increase, Mrs. Cole expressed a lack of faith in the Emperor for raising our taxes."

"Are you aware, Miss Wiess, that perjury is a crime?" Drummond says it with a bit more vinegar in his voice this time. Lilly Wiess turns pale.

"I am aware."

"Are you aware that last year's tax hike was authorized by the local government, as the newspaper you claim to have been reading would have reported? Are you aware that, seeing as how the Emperor had no involvement with this particular issue, Mrs. Cole would not have criticized him. Not even the worst of traitors could have!"

"I swear she said just what I said she said!"

"As a teacher, you should know the old children's story about the emperor, completely unrelated to Emperor Gestahl, who was tricked by deceitful tailors pandering to his vanity into cavorting around his kingdom stark naked. I submit that if Mrs. Cole did indeed utter the phrase you claim she uttered, and your lack of credibility throws even that into doubt, then she was clearly referring to the fairy tale and not Emperor Gestahl. Your charges of treason ring hollow. How much were you paid to testify against my client?"

Lilly Wiess turns pale. Most of the audience seems to be talking over the latest developments. Brady chomps down hard on the end of his quill pen.

"That's all we need from the witness," says Drummond.

"You are dismissed," says Lovett. "Next witness."

"Your Honor," says Drummond, "the defense would like to call to the stand Doctor Glenn Banon."

"I object," says Brady.

"On what grounds?" says Lovett.

"I wish to know what possible relevance the testimony of a doctor can have in this trial."

Drummond fires back, "What relevance couldn't it have? This woman is on trial for teaching a theory, so testimony about that theory ought to be admissible. After all, how can you rule on something you know nothing about?"

"The doctor's knowledge has nothing to do with the law," says Brady.

"If this were a case of someone shot, I'm certain you would have no problem with a ballistics expert coming in to talk to us about bullets."

"But I won't allow you to parade a bunch of heathen scientists in front of this court to put their blasphemies on display. The very act of having them testify goes against the spirit of the law and acts to corrupt our youth."

"So you feel perfectly comfortable talking about something you know nothing about?"

"I do, when I know that it is evil already."

"You politicians. All the same."

"Order," says the judge. "I rule the testimony of Doctor Banon inadmissible. Next witness, please."

"Okay, then. Professor Igor Stanovich of the Zoology department at Figaro University."

"Objection," says Brady.

"Sustained."

"Then how about Professor Ziegfried Kohl?"

"Objection."

"Sustained."

"So all these world class scientists, whom I have brought here at great expense and inconvenience, and who know the subject better than any of us, cannot even be heard by those hammering out whether a line of thought ought to be legal?"

"You've heard the explanation," says Lovett. "Pipe down. Any more witnesses?"

"I – request a fifteen minute recess, Your Honor."

"Granted."

Fifteen minutes to make or break the case. To June Cole, they are the longest fifteen minutes the world has ever seen.

XXX

"Your Honor," says Drummond, "since you will not permit testimony from those who are experts on Evolution on account of it supposedly corrupting our youth, would you admit testimony from an expert on the Imperial Bible? Surely that cannot be said to be corrupting at all."

"I would permit that," says Lovett.

"All right, then," says Drummond. "I call to the stand a man who, at least in his own mind, is one of the leading authorities on the Bible and on the Emperor, Mr. William J. Brady!"

The crowd is dead silent, almost as if it has been grabbed from behind by a mugger and is in the process of being choked to death.

"This is preposterous!" says Dennis Martel. "Unheard of!"

Lovett looks confused. "This is, I say, unorthodox. I do not believe I have ever heard of the prosecuting attorney being called as a witness."

"If the interests of justice can be served though my testimony, then I have no objects," says Brady.

"If you do not wish to testify for your opponent," says Lovett, "then I do not require it."

"I wish to."

Drummond's confidence level rises. "Mr. Brady, would you say you are an expert on the Bible?"

"I think it not boastful to say that I have studied the Bible as much as any layman, and I make every effort to live according to the divine precepts of Emperor Gestahl."

"Bully for you. Now, would you say you could quote chapter and verse from the official Imperial version?"

"I have committed much of the Holy Scriptures to memory."

"Can you quote to me from Darwin's _Origin of Species_?"

"I have no desire either to read or memorize any of that heathen trash."

"Then why in perdition do you have the gall to drum up a holy war against it? You haven't even read it! You assume it's evil. You assume everyone who believes it is evil. You assume everything, and you don't know anything."

"Would you please rephrase the question? I'm not sure I get your meaning."

Drummond pulls out a copy of Darwin's book. "It says here on page thirty that..."

"Objection! You're just using another route to get this heathen filth into our courtroom."

Lovett scolds Drummond. "Keep your questions to matters of the Bible."

"Fine, then. Mr. Brady, tell us, do you believe each and every word of the Imperial Bible?"

"To the letter, I do."

"Then how do you explain the creation passage? The one you want to be the only thing taught in schools. It says there that in the beginning, everything was formless, but it also says that there were rivers and mountains. How do you reconcile those two things?"

"Faith, Drummond, which you seem to lack."

"Thinking, which you seem to lack, rules out accepting a literal reading of two contradictory passages. What about where it says the entire world was flooded? Did that happen?"

"The Holy Imperial Bible says so, so I accept it."

"Funny how all those meat eating critters didn't starve within a couple meals of everything else in the world dying. Funny how not an educated person in the world can accept a recent worldwide flood as accounting for the very uneven distribution of species throughout the world."

"You lack faith."

"I think. I want to be free to think. Isn't that what separates us from all other animals? The behemoth is stronger. The chocobo is faster. The moogle dances better. Even the cactrot is more durable. What other merit do we have? Or does a cactrot _think_?"

"I don't know. I'm a man, not a cactrot."

"Do you think a cactrot thinks?"

"If the Emperor wishes a cactrot to think, it thinks."

"Does a man or a woman have the same privileges that a cactrot has?"

"Of course."

Drummond is on a roll now. "This woman on trial here wishes to be afford the same privileges as a cactrot. She wishes _to think_!"

The crowd rumbles. Drummond fishes for something in his pocket.

"Mr. Brady, do you see this rock here?"

"I see it."

"Dr. Richardson of Thamasa University assures me this rock is at least ten million years old."

"You managed to sneak in some of that expert scientific testimony, I see, but I care little about the ages of rocks."

"Look inside. You will see the remains of a prehistoric marine creature."

"Your professor has his dates mixed up. The creature came in the flood, but that was no more than five hundred years ago."

"That's no more than an opinion. On what do you base it?"

"Bishop Usher calculated the beginning of time using the Imperial Bible."

"Tracing back the dates given, I expect?"

"Yes."

"Why do you accept his opinion as gospel?"

"He researched it well."

"But what about the first day? How long was that?"

"A day, I suppose."

"But the creation story has several days go by before the sun is even around. How are we to assume it is of any length? Could it not have been twenty five hours long instead of twenty four?"

"It could, I suppose."

"Aha!" Drummond is on fire. "If we cannot establish how long the first day was, then who is to say it wasn't thirty hours long? Forty? A hundred? A million years? Bishop Usher seems pretty well refuted to me."

"Faith, Drummond. How dare you attack the Imperial Bible?"

"Mr. Brady, the Imperial Bible is not the only book ever written."

"It's the word of God."

"Written by men."

"God spake to them and delivered his word unto them."

"How do you know God didn't _spake_ to Darwin?"

"I know because God tells me to oppose the evil teachings of that man."

"You know? What, does God speak directly to you? If you worship them Emperor, then maybe, but are we all now to accept whatever the Emperor says regardless of whether it is true or not? Is something true just because he says it's true? Today, he says that the works of our great scientists are forbidden. Tomorrow, he may say that the sky is pink, and who will oppose him? Who will stand up for truth? Mrs. Cole's biology textbook was not illegal thirty years ago when it was written. What changed since then? Did the Emperor decide that he must have lived a thousand years ago, and oh, he also happened to create everything? We're losing truth. Next we'll lose beauty, and then we'll lose our lives. The Emperor calls himself divine, but to him, nothing is sacred. He's set himself up as a god to control everyone. You all know it, too. I'm not the only one who thinks so. So I ask you, why don't we return to a time when people were free? Why don't we return to the days when thinking was not yet outlawed? Why don't we return to a time when a person couldn't be put on trial and hanged just for speaking his or her mind? We used to have that. You see all the nice technology we have these days? Look at Figaro. We have that because of people who were allowed to think. If we give up the right to think, we'll be headed for another Dark Ages, like what followed the War of the Magi."

These words split the room like a bolt of lightning. Not a person there is not at least slightly taken aback by Drummond's speech. Only the Imperial dignitaries manage not to react visibly. Everyone else either shouts or hides or hisses or races for the exits. Arvis and the other newsmen scribble up a storm on their notepads. It's up to Judge Lovett to stop the chaos.

"Order in the court, please. Order!" His gavel goes off like a gunshot.

XXX

"We, the jury, find the defendant guilty as charged."

Lovett stirs. "I shall commence with the sentencing."

"Wait, is it not customary for the defendant to make a statement before the sentencing?" Drummond wants one last shot.

"It is," says Lovett. "Mrs. Cole, have you anything to say?"

"Just that I think I did what is right, and, well, I'm not used to speaking under so much pressure. Please, remember that I have a family. A son who needs me. But he needs me to set a good example for him. I want him to stand up for what is right."

"Is that all?"

"That is all."

"I sentence you to death. Your execution will be in three days. This court is adjourned."

June Cole begins to cry.

XXX

"I have a statement from Emperor Gestahl himself," says Judge Lovett. "Will everyone please quiet down so I can read it?"

No one has left, except for those who fled in terror after Drummond's rant.

"Good, good. Our most holy Emperor Gestahl has written in this note, handed to me by none other than the honorable General Celes Chere, 'In light of the events that occurred in this courtroom today, I am forced to declare that Clarence Drummond, counsel for the defense, is, regretably, as much a traitor and a heretic as June Cole. I hand this down as my personal judgement on the matter, which is unquestionable. Clarence Drummond is to be executed alongside June Cole in three days.' That is all."

"They'll call him a martyr someday," thinks Banon as several Imperial soldiers carry out their duties and make the arrest.

XXX

"Locke," says Arvis, "we need you more than ever."

"Who needs me?" Locke wipes his eyes with his sleeve.

"Your mother for one. Drummond for another. Several others present, as well. Doctor Banon. King Edgar Figaro. The rest of the people I have scouted. We lost the verdict, but the war is just beginning. Remember all about scouting for others who do not wish to live under all this oppression?"

"I remember."

"Drummond accomplished just what he set out to do. Reports are coming in from all over of people moved by this trial. By Drummond, and by your mother. We think we're even strong enough to rescue them from prison before the execution."

Locke perks up at this. "Rescue them?"

"Yes, rescue them. We have the manpower, and Doctor Banon is a tactical mastermind. Your skills could come in handy, as well."

"My... treasure hunting skills?"

"Your thievery skills, yes."

"I'm a treasure hunter."

"Bah. Semantics."

"There's a huge difference."

"Regardless, we need you. Some of us, like King Edgar Figaro, can't go public, and you'll probably be one of those. You'll be hiding out here and at Figaro castle, but you'll be a great asset to us. Those whose lives and careers are threatened by our fight for freedom will have to go underground. The scientists who came to the trial, for instance."

"Maybe the caves at Narshe?"

"We have a place in mind, which I'll tell you about later. I'll tell you everthing about our movement to return to the days of liberty and progress. I'll tell you everything about... The Returners."

"And I'll listen." Locke bows his head.

End of Act II

I'd like to thank my beautiful girlfriend Mona for her undying love and support throughout this project, both in its conception and execution stages. Without her, there would be no story. She's got a bunch of good stuff posted at so look her up. I'd also like to take the time to plug my standard user handle, NetOwl. LemonSmoothie is the name we use when we work together on pieces. When we work separately, we use NetOwl and Mona.

I hope you enjoyed this story. A sequel (written by Mona) is coming soon.


End file.
